Choices
by Crimsonkat
Summary: A man reflects on the choices he has made over the course of his life. Written before any of the SoaSE expansions came out, so new units most likely won't be included.
1. The Man

A/N: This was literally the first fanfic I ever wrote. I noticed a couple of years ago that the Sins of A Solar Empire section was kind of bare, so I decided to rectify that. Sadly, I never published. :/ Oh well. I'm fixing that now.

* * *

 _Fire, shadows that danced with the unending wall of flame, mixing and mingling, they rose to the sky. Staggering to the left, vision blurring. Pain. Darkness. He held the stump of his left arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Propped up on a piece of the destroyed cargo ship, waiting to be consumed by the flames, fear and acceptance, glowing blue eyes looming over, leveling the gun at him, then…_

"…'re coming out of phase space in ten standard minutes, all hands please report to your respective stations." A feminine voice rang out over the intercom in a pitch-black room, "Will Captain Hollowe, please report to the bridge. Repeat, we're coming out of phase…" The shape underneath the covers ignored the rest of the intercoms message. It shifted uncomfortably, covered in sweat. He was glad for the interruption, that nightmare… In the complete darkness, he moved beneath the covers and shivered, unnerved, it'd been a while since he'd had that dream. He reached out to the other side of his bed, and then realized something was… missing.

 _Kari…_ He sighed, understanding what it was, and unable to get back to sleep; he shoved off the covers and sat up, slowly rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Responding to the sudden movement, his left arm squealed in protest. After so much inaction, it would take a while for it to warm back up. He made a mental checklist, taking down his various aches and pains. His left temple was aching like no other, a side effect of his neural enhancements. He rubbed his face idly. All in all, the whole left side of his body felt like a huge bruise.

The recycled air felt cold on his skin, giving him goose bumps. This, in combination with the darkness, he could almost allow himself to think that there was one of the dearly departed, right in front of him. The glowing blues eyes flashed before him. A cold flash fear went down his spine, but then he relaxed.

"Lights On…" He mumbled, shielding his eyes from the resulting supernova of light. He looked around, at his surroundings blearily. It was a rather bare room compared to what he could have. Spartan could possibly be a word to describe it, but, then again, he had a few decorative items here and there. He didn't think he should live much better than his men, at least, while onboard his ship, but he did keep a few privileges of rank to himself.

The man got up, stumbled slightly, but somehow managed to stand. He then felt a slight pressure in his abdomen and decided that he should go to the head.

The man walked unsteadily, stumbling towards a small adjacent room, still feeling the after-effects of his long sleep. He passed underneath the small archway; it was tasteful, but too elegant for his tastes. It was a head after all, no need to make it more elaborate than necessary. He reached the waste dispersal unit and did his business. The unit, at least, was as plain as its purpose. He still felt the ache in his forehead; it was starting to build into an unbearable pain.

He still wasn't completely awake and he was covered in cold sweat, so he stripped and stepped into the refresher. Hopefully, this would also deal with his headache. He touched a button and the small plastiglass cube filled with a thick, warm, mist soaking his body within moments, banishing the cold chills. He managed a small laugh, this was luxury at its finest, he could've just used a sonic brush to beat impurities from his skin, but he preferred the feeling of water. It relaxed him.

The man could remember reading in a book somewhere before, that the ancients had things similar to this, they called them 'showers'. When he was younger, he had wished to know what that felt like, so he had this _beauty's_ sister constructed back home, on Crim'Wilde. The one that he was currently using had only recently been installed on his ship, during his secret upgrade of it, but it was still based off the same design. Kari had always thought that he was a bit eccentric, mostly because of this.

Again, like many times before, he thanked that foresight of _hers_ , after all, it had been she who had waterproofed his left arm, as well as built it from scratch… His dear friend wa— No, no, he couldn't think about that anymore. Now was not the time to dredge up the past, especially of her.

The man's hand shot out and pressed another small depression. The refresher abruptly changed to its drying function, which blew searing air, dispersing the heavy mist and drying his skin. As the air blew, it momentarily blinded him, the air grabbing and yanking his short back and forth, like small angered snakes. No, he needed to look to the future, now more than ever.

The man stepped out of the refresher and saw a new change of underclothes neatly laid out where his messily discarded ones had been. He stooped low, picked them up, and began to put them on. But then again, he mused, to look to the future, one had to learn from the past. The irony. He let out a bark of laughter. He had suddenly recalled his most difficult battle when he had first rose to his current position. Or at least, semi-current, they were calling him differently these days.

He'd had many challenges when he'd first become a Baron, but his greatest, ironically, wasn't with his rivals, but with his servants. He could remember the very last battle of wills that he'd ever had with them. It was pathetic.

* * *

He was overlooking the imperial capital of the Trade Order, from his modest tower. Most of the buildings in the capital towered over his small spire. As a Baron, he was required to have a residence on the capital, since every standard two years, the Council of Barons took place. The occasional shadow passed overhead, a public transport, blocking out the sun. He had been annoyed enough, he had been required to come and attend the farce, but then he also had to fight _them_ , his servants. In his Twenty-four years of experience, he had never been so offended.

"I told you, I can dress myself!" He had yelled, "I'm not some child!" For the fifth time, he had to thrust an attendant off himself, tenth time that day. This was his ongoing war, apart from actual combat. He, unaware how to act among the higher echelon of society, had hired attendants which had experience in such matters, but they were quite a pain. And insistent.

"But sir, you must dress presentably for the council!" one attendant had complained, while trying to fit the barons mechanical arm through the elegant robe, while another suggested with a wink "If you dress well, sir, perhaps you'll catch the eye of one of the beautiful Ladies or possibly even a Baroness." This had only served to aggravate him further, he fought them even harder, more than his previous half-hearted struggles. Eventually, even though they usually won, they gave up, exhausted.

"Well then, what can we do for you, my _Lord?_ " His head attendant, Tyln, had exasperatedly asked. She was a young woman who gave off a matronly aura, well beyond her years. Back then, before Tear was born, grey hadn't even touched her temples yet. She stood almost as tall as him and her piercing green eyes seemed to burrow into the soul. A shadow had darkened the room.

"This is the job which you hired us to do, yet you're constantly stopping us from performing it!" she had exclaimed, not quite yelling but somehow projecting it to the entire room, "If you have any suggestions on how we can better serve you _my lord_ , please, share them." She had then looked at him expectantly, head held high and proud. The other attendants lined up behind her and stood at attention, waiting dutifully for orders.

Thinking back on it, Tyln had taken a calculated risk. If he had been born to the position he had achieved though combat prowess, she probably would've been dismissed on the spot for disrespectful conduct. He hadn't dismissed her though, luck and guts were what had gotten him blindly through politics, life, and the battlefield. Those attributes, on the Vasari battlefront, were what had gotten him his current position as a Baron. He respected those who knew how to take a risk. It also helped that he had been surprised by her aggressive question. He had hesitantly responded to her, a bit unsure of how to answer it.

"You could be a little less forceful… If I really need help, I'll ask for it." Tyln had raised her eyebrow and he had then looked away awkwardly. Back then, he had felt like a misbehaving child, being reprimanded by his mother, "Of course I'll cooperate more willingly with you" he'd hurriedly added, "but perhaps the outfits you choose could be… more simple." He gestured at the ornate and complicated robe that had been slightly askew. "Elegance… really isn't my style."

Tyln had then smiled, her green eyes suddenly soft, she and the other attendants had agreed and he had left in a much simpler robe. At that meeting, among the pomp and wasted riches, he had received a few stares but nothing major had happened. From then on, his clothes had been much less ornate and less formal; they still hid his arm, though. After all, such modifications to the body were illegal and shunned by society. Even the dying of hair was frowned upon. The Baron couldn't have possibly known that, in the upcoming years, Tyln would become an ardent supporter, close friend, trusted adviser, and master of his entire information gathering network.

* * *

A/N: I had first come up with this story when I saw the avatar for this character while I was playing with a friend. It sort of then took a life of it;s own. I'll update this every now and again. I have the first three chapters written, but I'd like to edit them before I post them.


	2. The Baron

The Baron idly ran a hand through his short hair. He wasn't really a vain man, at least he didn't think he was, but he could say he thought he was reasonably attractive. He observed the doppelganger in the mirror, turquoise eyes staring straight back at him. He often tried to exude a noble demeanor but the large scar above his left eye ruined it. _You know, that scar makes you look like a PIRATE!_ a young girl's voice echoed at the edge of his memory, _maybe you should be one! I'll even come with you!—_ No! He was not going to be drawn into this again!

Past was past, dwelling on it would only make the guilt worse. He couldn't afford to be taken in by his past, not right now! _That guilt wasn't wholly undeserved though…_ He thought as he stared at the murderer in the mirror.

The baron had the blood of trillions of innocents on his hands and they all clamored for revenge. By his order, planets had been bombed, friend or foe, those bombs made no distinction.

 _It's not your fault,_ a woman's voice, Tyln, claimed _, they were enemies._ Planets gained, Planets lost, Planets reconquered, the innocents always paid the price for their leaders mistakes.

 _Till death, My Lord!_ The soldiers yelled in unison. A cold chill ran down his spine.

 _Don't make me laugh,_ a young boy ridiculed, _you couldn't even steal without crying! You call yourself a man!?_ The chill consumed his entire body. The demon in the mirror stared at him, face completely devoid of emotion.

 _You are, but you're_ **my** _demon_ a woman's voice whispered passionately

Here he was, about to take his most dangerous gamble yet, and he couldn't even keep his composure!

 _Thank you_ , an ancient voice wheezed _we wouldn't have surv_ —

He tried to smile, the demon sneered back at him. _Don't… cry, we'll… always—_ his vision narrowed to a tunnel, breathing quickened.

 _Be safe!_ A cold sweat soaking him. His migraine returned full force. Memories awhirl. He couldn't—

 _Don't forget dinner!_ Bile was rising in his throat.

 _We trust you with our liv—_ Flaming turquoise eyes, glaring—

 _Save me!_ Blaming. Those eyes—

 _Help!_ Gripping the sink, tunnel closing—

 _My Lord?_ Gasping for breath, not enough—

 _Sir..._ Pounding head, body of ice—

 _You Fool!_ Pain! Vision black. No more.

 _Lord Battor! —_ Please. No more.

 _Idiot!_ Voices clamoring—

 _Brother! —_ building into a crescendo, **please** —

 _Son._ He wasn't. So loud. Building—

 _My love…_ Unbearable—

 _Ryasn!?_ Thousands of tiny bullets, white hot—

 _Daddy?_ Squeezing eyes shut.

 _TRAITOR!_ He was going—

* * *

"Think of what you fear most" in the pitch black room Kari's voice could be heard.

"Do I have to?" Ryasn replied in a complaining voice, easily hiding a smile in the darkness.

Tyln broke in, "Would you both please, shut up? Aren't we trying to meditate!?"

Meditation was one of Kari's many quirks, but he always gave in to her requests… Yes, he was a sucker, he came to terms with that the first time he met her. Tyln joined in because she insisted on being present whenever that _opportunistic two-timer_ , as she called Kari, was around.

There were a few moments of silence. He heard the rustling of fabric and his breath caught. He could the heat from her body right by his face. Her scent filled his nose; a mix of oil, a cold clear night, and citrus fruit. A breath tickled his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"You heard her, now stop stalling and let's begin." Kari whispered. The rustling of fabric and she was gone. He exhaled while thinking incredulously, _she expects me to think of what I fear after that!?_

Still, he tried his best, slipping into the familiar trance, he pondered. What did he fear most? A small child flashed before his eyes, black hair and a pair of mismatched eyes, one green the other turquoise. Suddenly, his body was ice, frozen with the manufactured fear. Kari began speaking.

 _You must not fear—fear inhibits potential_

 _Fears entices you to the path of destruction—confront your fears_

The child was held in comforting arms, small, safe, and protected.

 _Take them into your center and harness their power_

The ice started moving towards his chest, his outer extremities warming

 _Burn away your doubts—feed on them till they disappear_

A cold fire flared in his chest. His body became a furnace while his heart was as frozen as the tundra's of Examli II. He felt powerful, yet he was calm and peaceful.

All was well.

 _Your passions turn into a void of Peace, of Logic, and of Harmony_

 _Only you remain…_

* * *

 _-to be fine._

The intercom fuzzed to life. "We're leaving TEC space, en-route to Advent Capital Planet Zahao, including two slipspace jumps, estimated time of journey is five and a half standard hours. All hands stand down to green. Repeat, we are now leaving TEC space…"

Ryasn took a deep shuddering breath as he was curled up on the floor. He was calm. His body was no longer shaking, his head was cool. No longer did he have a migraine. He knew what he had to do and why.

His breathing was steady as he lifted himself from the ground.

Again, Ryasn took a look at his reflection. His face was the same… No.

There were subtle differences. His face was still blank but the corners of his mouth were no longer taut with stress. His shoulders had visibly loosened as well. The developing crow's feet around his eyes had ceased to crease.

He sighed in relief. He hadn't realized he was so tense.

He winced as he rolled his left shoulder. When he collapsed, he must have jammed the mechanical arm deep into the socket. He winced as he tested it out again.

It was going to bruise.

He was checking the extent of the damage underneath his undershirt when something in the mirror caught his eye. He lowered his eyes to see a small glass of purified water with a simple but beautiful green flower.

 _So… She was here…_ he thought to himself, _Against my orders…_ he laughed to himself. It was sad yet… endearing. His eyes were drawn back up to his arm _I wish…_ He shook his head. Sadly, he wished for a lot of things and couldn't do a thing about them. He had made his choice.

He made many choices in his life and he had many more to come, after all, at forty three, he was in the middle of his prime. These choices were what had made him who he was. Ryasn's head started to throb again. Perhaps reflecting on his past would help ward off another attack. These attacks had been present ever since he had first gotten his arm. He was constantly asked the story behind his cybernetic enhancements and his scar. He wished he had a rousing story behind it but with the scar it was really only a product of his own stupidity.

If he really thought about it, this scar was one of his more defining features, right above his left eye. He raised his mechanical arm and fingered it. In the mirror, the doppelganger raised its left and did the same.

Before all the lavish housing, the rich parties and military conquests, he had been an orphan.

No. Before that, Ryasn had been from a small family, born on a backwater planet on the outskirts of the Trade Order, long before any of the wars broke out. Back then, to 'encourage' new colonies to grow, laws were noticeably more… lax, people constantly looked the other way. It wasn't easy but they were happy. Thirty standard years ago, his parents hadn't been the ideal, but they did what they had to carve a living for themselves and their family. Eventually, they angered the wrong person. If he remembered correctly, it had been the secretary of the governor, some minor official. So they were… removed. Thankfully, his parents had made an excuse for him and his sister to be somewhere else. They had known what was coming and wanted to save them. So they began living on their own.

While he was trying to steal some food for them, he had tripped and a jutting piece of metal had cut open his forehead. The scar had shrunk with time, yet it still remained. His sister had loved to poke fun at it.

He smiled at the mirror, and headed back into his room. Without much suprise, he grunted at the hooded figure sitting cross-legged on his bed, and picked up the uniform which had been neatly folded next to her. He began to put on the ornate thing, with minor disgust, but he dealt with it.

 _I must be getting old…_

Initially, he and his sister had been alone. But everything had changed when _that_ ship crashed.

* * *

A/N: This update was made possible and brought to you in part by Le Cinnamon Tea who gave me my first ever review!~ (it's great motivation) Plus it's a sweet handle. I love cinnamon tea. I love herbal teas. It's great.

...yeah...

That's it.


End file.
